


Pipin' Hot Joe

by Moiself



Series: Pipin' Hot Joe [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Punkbrose - Freeform, Safety First!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The continued adventures of Punk & Dean.</p>
<p>A follow on from Christmas Cupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean was summoned into consciousness by the sounds of music drifting through the apartment and the blessed aroma of coffee and some sweet spicy baked thing he couldn’t quite identify. Smiling to himself, he slipped out of bed and headed towards the source of it all.

“Good morning sunshine! Happy Christmas!”

“Dean! You're up.”

Dean stepped through the doorway and entered the warmth of the kitchen, his smile growing wider as he realised that his lover was wearing the gag gift he’d given him the night before, a white fake fur-trimmed red velvet thong and matching Santa hat, and not a stitch more.

Crossing the room quickly, he wrapped the older man in a warm embrace, kissing him softly on the lips.

“Are you my present? Because I’m very ok with that if you are…”

He sat down on the stool they kept in their small kitchen solely so either one of them could keep the other company while they cooked and accepted the mug of coffee offered to him, opening his arms to make space for Punk to sit on his lap.

“Nope, but I’ve decided that you’re mine.”

Reaching under his hat, Punk pulled out a festive bow and placed it precisely on Dean’s head, ducking in to kiss his dimpled cheek. Dean sipped at his drink and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend, cuddling him in close.

“This is good shit Punk, new blend?”

“Indeed, one of mine, just for you.”

Dean drained the last of his brew, Punk taking the empty mug from his hands and reaching over his partner to place it on the counter. Twisting in the other man’s lap, he draped his arms across Dean’s shoulders, his head falling back as the younger man nuzzled along his bristled jaw.

“What time do we need to go get our baby?”

Dean punctuated his question with a kiss the sensitive spot beneath Punk’s ear.

“You have...to stop...calling...him a baby...he’s three. And a dog.”

“Ah, but he’ll always be my baby...so what time?”

“Rod said any time after two.”

Dean sat up and glanced above Punk’s head to the clock on the kitchen wall.

“...so it’s eight now...take ten minutes to get there...the food’s already in the refrigerator...what’s in the oven babe?”

“Breakfast. Spiced carrot muffins.”

“Nearly done?”

“Another few minutes…”

“Eh, done enough.”

Sliding an arm under Punk’s legs, Dean stood. Pausing only to allow his lover a moment to turn off the oven and open the door, he carried him, bridal style, back to their bed.

“Hope you made a lot of those muffins, because I’m planning on working up an appetite.”

With that, Dean threw his boyfriend onto the rumpled covers of the bed, his cargo landing more gracefully than he had any right to and scooching up the bed so to sit against the headboard. The pompom on his hat falling rakishly over one eye, Punk smirked and leaned back, hands clasped behind his head. 

“I was counting on it Deano.”

Dean clambered onto the bed, straddling Punk’s legs. Rocking forward, lips parted just a fraction, he gazed down into his lover’s eyes.

Punk’s hands drifted to Dean’s thighs, spreading over the warm skin, thumbs sweeping back and forth through the soft downy hair. Craning upwards, he captured his partner’s lips with his, gentle soft pecks giving way quickly to deeper passions.

Effortlessly Punk flipped them over, barely breaking their kiss, the furry bobble of his hat giving Dean the handhold he needed to pull the thing off of his lover’s head as he braced himself over him.

“Hey! You’re the present here!”

Punk flicked the bow, which by some minor miracle had managed to stay put.”

“I’ll be the one doing the unwrapping.”

Dean stilled at once.

“So unwrap me then. “

The older man slid a single finger under the hem of the shirt Dean had slept in, sweeping from hip to hip teasingly slowly, making the younger man squirm with impatience.

“Baaaaaabe….....c’mooooooon….”

“Well….it is Christmas….”

Moving quickly, he grasped the fabric at the neck of Dean’s shirt and yanked his hands in opposite directions, tearing it in two.

He smiled down at Dean with all the innocence of a circling shark.

“Never was any good at being patient with my gifts.”

Ducking down to kiss Dean again, his hands moved to the waistband of the younger man’s underwear.

“Whoa!”

Dean bucked upwards, his ass raising off the bed.

“I like these boxers! I liked that shirt…”

Punk shrugged, but obliged his loverboy by dragging the dark cotton down his long legs, tossing the garment into the corner of the room with a flourish after whirling it around his head.

Still kneeling between Dean’s thighs, he folded his arms and allowed his eyes to roam across the beautifully familiar and well loved body spread out before him. There was not a single inch of it that he did not adore.

Dean grew restless again, needing to feel his boyfriend’s touch.

“Puh….”

He was silenced by Punk’s finger on his lips.

“Hush Deano...trying to enjoy my Christmas treat here…”

Fidgeting now, writhing with need, Dean’s lips parted as he captured Punk’s finger with his mouth. Teasing with his tongue, he required no words to make his desires clear.

He chased that solo digit as Punk withdrew, meeting him halfway in a fierce heated kiss. Together, they fell back to the pillows, a muffled groan escaping Dean as Punk’s velvet covered hardness brushed over his own bare, aching cock.

“That feel good Deano?”

Punk flexed his hips again, the motion setting another low moan free from his lover’s lips. Bracing himself on one elbow he planted a kiss on the corner of Dean’s mouth, a hand slipping between their bodies to lightly massage the younger man’s balls.

“Does it feel as good as my hands?”

His lips brushed over the tip of Dean’s nose, hips pulsating once more, his clothed dick rubbing against his man’s. Slithering down the bed he left a dusting of kisses in his wake.

“Does it feel as good as my _mouth_?” 

His tongue swept up the underside of Dean’s cock, then in one seamless movement, swallowed him down.

“Fuck! Punk...Phil..nothing...nothing feels as good as you.”

His hand drifted down to cup Punk’s face, fingers caressing the hollow of the older man’s cheeks as he sucked, his head bobbing as he worked Dean’s length with his unseen clever tongue.

“Babe...ease up...swing round...I need to taste you too.”

Dragging his mouth up the length of Dean’s shaft, and with a wicked flick of his tongue to the slit, Punk pulled off and moved to relocate himself. He crawled into position and swung a leg over Dean’s chest allowing the other man to drag him backwards until he was happy. His hand gravitated towards that of his lover, fingers intertwining for the briefest of moments before moving to support his weight as he leaned down to take Dean in his mouth once more. 

His own hands free of any such duty, Dean placed a warm broad palm on each of the delectable ass cheeks in from of him, fingers spread wide to cover and fondle as much of the precious flesh as he could manage. Pressing his lips to the soft skin on the inside of Punk’s thigh, he nuzzled his way to the insubstantial barrier of the velvety thong his boyfriend still wore. 

Hooking the scarlet fabric to one side, he drew Punk’s cheeks gently apart, spreading him open, exposing his rosy little hole to his view. Dean licked a wide wet stripe along the valley of his lover’s cleft, huffing out a slow breath over the dampness as he retreated, enjoying the quiver of the older man’s body as it responded to the chilly sensation.  
He did the same again, this time pulling a rumbling groan from somewhere deep within his boyfriend, the vibrations travelling straight to his cock, still being lavished with all the love and attention Punk’s mouth could give.

Lapping at the puckered muscle, Dean’s persistent tongue gained entrance at last, darting in and out of the warm velvet of Punk’s channel, the velvet of his underwear paling in comparison as it brushed against Dean’s cheek.

Becoming irritated by the fabric, Dean paused in his ministrations for a moment to tug the tiny excuse for a piece of clothing to sit beneath the swell of Punk’s ass.

Tracing his tongue from Punk’s taint back to his hole, Dean resumed his feast, a finger now working alongside his tongue to ease his lover back open, the wet muscle of teasing around his rim as the single digit plunged deep inside, seeking out the nub of pleasure hidden within. Soon it was joined by a second, sweeping across Punk’s prostate, forcing more dirty moans to ripple over Dean’s cock as his man continued to lick and suck.

Suddenly Punk threw his head backwards, back arching, eyes cast to the ceiling.

"...stop...cock...in me NOW Deano!"

Flailing blindly behind himself, he batted at the side of Dean's head, forcing him to pull his tongue and fingers free. Rising to his knees he shuffled forward and before Dean had a chance to even think about reaching for the lube grasped his mouth wet cock and sank down, taking him almost to the root. 

He rolled his hips, working himself down the rest of the way, Dean’s hands a steadying touch at his waist, his own a steadying touch on Dean's bent knees. 

“God...you feel so perfect...your cock was made for me. Best gift _ever_. Every. Fuckin’. Day.”

Impaled on Dean’s length, Punk gyrated in time to some slow rhythm only he could hear, seeking out the angle he needed to set his senses alight. Finding it, he lifted himself up, tortuously slowly, almost lifting himself clear, only to slam back down, the movement causing Dean’s cockhead to drag over his prostate in the most tantalising way.

He repeated his action, once, twice, three times more then stopped abruptly, swatting at Dean’s thigh.

“Hey...come on...I’m not doing all the work here. What happened to working up an appetite.”

“Sorry babe… I was admiring the view...kinda distracted me…”

At that he thrust upwards, making his beloved Punk yelp in pleasure and surprise.

“Attaboy Deano! Now we’re talking!”

Words quickly gave way to grunts and the sounds of skin slapping on skin as the pair raced headlong towards orgasm.

“Fuck! Deano...hand...HAND...now!”

“Lean back babe...I got ya…”

Dean’s strong hands guided Punk backwards until he was horizontal, lying with his back to his boyfriend’s broad chest. 

He twisted his head to meet his lover’s in a heated kiss, Dean’s hand at that same moment reaching beneath the ruined red velvet that barely covered Punk’s rock hard leaking dick and freeing it from it’s damp fake fur and fabric cage.

The younger man’s thumb swept across the dripping tip, catching the pearls of precum budding there, the same thumb that found it’s way to his mouth mere moments later. With a noisy slurp, he sucked it clean, then licked his palm, wetting it before returning with relish to the task at hand.

Holding Punk tight to his chest with one hand, Dean worked his cock with the other, the slower undulating rhythm of his hips as he fucked his boyfriend’s ass doing nothing to slow the approach of his impending climax and if he knew the twitching of Punk’s abs as well as he thought he did, nothing to delay the arrival of his orgasm either.

Dean buried his face in the crook of Punk’s shoulder as he came with a yell, dragging Punk over the precipice with him, hands and hips working together to ride out the final tremors of climax.

Neither man moved until Dean’s softening cock slipped free, Punk turning round once it did to lie chest to chest with his lover, sweaty back trading places with sweaty cum smeared stomach.

Eyes glazed, no longer with lust, but with the drowsy soft focus of passion well sated, he pressed his lips to Dean’s chest in a lazy kiss, his words a mumble as they both drifted into a light doze.

“Best gift ever...every...fuckin’...day...”


	2. Chapter 2

When Dean awoke for the second time that morning, the only sounds to be heard were the soft snuffles of the man he adored, still snoozing on his chest. Gently, so as not to wake Punk, he rolled him onto his back and gently eased the remains of the cum stained Santa thong from where it was caught around his lover’s thighs, tossing it in the vague direction of the laundry hamper.

Tucking the sheets around his boyfriend’s naked form, he slipped into the kitchen and flipped the oven on to rewarm the muffins Punk had made earlier while he made some fresh coffee.

Before long he was back in the bedroom, with breakfast tray in hand and a warm damp towel draped over his arm. Setting the tray on the nightstand, he leaned over to wake Punk.

He was halted in his tracks for a moment, struck by how fortunate he was to have the other man in his life and in his bed, feeling lucky and blessed still, even after so many years together.

“You gonna stare like that all day Deano? It’s kinda creepy…”

There was only humour in Punk’s voice as he cracked open an eye and peered up at his hovering man.

“I was  _ trying  _ to let you sleep old man...thought you could use the rest…”

“Fat chance of sleep with you making more noise than a baby elephant on roller skates in the kitchen. I swear...you’re lucky I love you…”

“Love you too.”

Punk reached up and dragged Dean down into a lazy kiss.

“Here, let me just…”

Peeling back the sheet, Dean lovingly wiped away the evidence of their earlier bedroom rodeo from Punk’s stomach, dotting the inked skin of the tattoo that adorned it with kisses before taking his place on the bed beside him.

As soon as Dean had settled himself against the pillows, Punk slid across to nestle between his legs, resting his back against the younger man’s chest. He wriggled in place, making himself comfortable. Feeling the response of Dean’s cock beneath his ass cheeks, he wriggled some more.

“Seriously babe?”

“What? I’m just trying to get comfortable...seems to me you’re the one trying to start something here.”

Folding his legs underneath him, Punk spun round between Dean’s knees. Adopting a serious expression that seemed a little out of place for a cross-legged naked man, he prodded at Dean’s cock.

“Yep, that’s definitely a boner...you have a one track mind there sweetheart. I knew you only loved me for my ass.”

Dean laughed, and catching his lover with a hand round the back of his neck, pulled him forward to shut him up with a kiss.

Breaking apart, he flung a pillow between them, covering up his stiff cock, eliciting a little whine of complaint from his lover.

“Awww…”

“Awww nothin’ babe...Breakfast first...coffee! Then you can have your wicked way with me.”

“Did we not just establish that you were the one trying to do all the wicked way having in this picture?”

“How’s about this then...we’ll  _ both _ have our wicked way with each other. That do-able?”

Punk sniggered like a teenager at the accidental pun.

“Yeah...do-able.”

Dean tossed him a baked treat.

“Oh god, you’re such a kid sometimes….now shut up and eat your muffin so I can fuck you.”

They ate quickly, washing their food down with coffee, Dean twitching where he sat from time to time as Punk brushed against his still hard cock with his bare toes under the cover of the pillow that was acting as their makeshift table.

Mugs drained and muffins ate, Dean stood, much to the dismay of his boyfriend who gestured back towards the bed.

“But...but... _ fuck _ ?”

Dean grinned and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him to his feet. He waggled his eyebrows before ducking slightly to hoist the older man over his shoulder and administering a hearty smack to Punk’s bare ass.

“Shower babe...shower.”

“To the bathroom then my good man!”

This time it was Punk’s palm landing on Dean’s ass to spur him into action.

Reaching the bathroom, Dean grabbed a towel from the rail and spread it on the tiled counter beside the sink before depositing Punk on it.

Punk kicked his legs like a little boy sat in a too big chair and wiggled against the cosy cloth.

“Aw thanks Dean...so considerate of me and my ass.”

Wrapping his legs around Dean’s thighs, he drew him in closer.

“How are we doing here Deano? Still hard for me? Look at that beautiful cock, twitching to be back where it belongs.”

Dean let out a quiet groan as Punk caressed his manhood, a gentle finger stroking from root to tip. Swirling that same finger round as though he were playing with a straw in a drink his eyes stayed locked on his lover’s.

“You ready to be back inside me sweetheart? Huh? You ready to fuck me?”

His fist wrapped around both their cocks, the movement of his hand slow and teasing.

“Always ready for you babe.”

Dean reached behind Punk to grab the lube from it’s home in the medicine cabinet, earning himself some whiskery kisses to the delicate skin on the inside of his upper arm. Flipping the cap, he tipped the bottle, letting it pour over Punk’s hand, still working over their shafts.

Dropping the bottle into the basin, Dean’s fingertips skimmed lightly up the outside of Punk’s thighs as he leaned in to catch the other man’s lips in a fierce biting kiss. Sliding both palms under his lover’s ass, Punk’s arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, Dean lifted him free from the counter. Shifting one hand to Punk’s waist, the younger man took his well slicked length in the other and finding his boyfriends still loosened entrance lowered him down, sliding easily into that precious heat.

Punk let out a truly wicked sounding moan as Dean’s cockhead grazed his prostate, head rolling forward, burying his face in the other man’s neck as he adjusted to the sensation.

“You good babe?”

Punk merely nodded into the smooth column of muscle. Taking it for the go ahead it was, Dean began to bounce the older man on his cock, hips rutting upwards to meet Punk’s ass as he rose and fell.

The sounds of skin smacking on skin echoed off the tiled wall of the tiny bathroom, punctuated with the ever louder groans of the pair as they grew closer to climax.

“Deeeean.”

Punk’s voice was a near whimper, heavy with need.

“Hold on. No really,  _ hold on _ .”

Clasping his boyfriend close, Dean managed to manoeuvre them across the room and into the compact shower stall, turning the flow of water on as he did so. This small shower had been one of the main attractions of this particular apartment when they had been searching for a new place to live together. Separate from the tub, just big enough for two and most important of all, solidly built.

With Punk supported by the side of the enclosure, Dean’s hips snapped back into action, pounding his lover against the tile. The need to cling onto Dean eased by the wall behind him, Punk was now free to slip a hand between them to jerk his cock, the warm cascade easing his strokes.

All too soon he felt a heated flush pass over him that was nothing to do with the warmth of the water.

“Hngh...ah...fuck...Deano...I’m gonna…”

“Let it go babe, let go...I’m right with you.”

With a final twist of his hand, Punk did just that, ribbons of cum painting Dean’s chest for a brief moment before being swept away. The sweet clench of his body pushed Dean over the edge a split second behind him, the younger man emptying his load deep inside his beloved for the second time that morning with a few shallow shuddering thrusts. He clung to Punk tightly, the balmy stream of the water washing over their bodies bringing with it the soft bloom of afterglow.

Slipping free from Punk’s cum drenched hole, Dean eased his lover away from the wall, aiding his descent until both feet were firmly placed on the floor of the shower. Reaching for the shampoo, he immediately squeezed a huge dollop onto Punk’s head and began to lather it up, fashioning a mohawk from the suds before squishing it back down.

Punk batted Dean’s hands away and wiped the bubbles away from his eyes.

“Is that how it is? Wham, bam, thank you man…”

He did his best to feign indignance, failing miserably in the face of Dean’s beaming grin. His younger lover scooped a little blob of foam and giggling, plopped it on the end of Punk’s nose.

“Puuuuuuunk...have you forgotten what day it is?”

“No you dumbass...it’s Christmas…”

“And that means?”

“PRESENTS!”

Grabbing the bottle of bodywash from the shower basket, he popped it open and squirted it all over Dean’s chest, painting him with the scented liquid just as he’d painted him with his cum a short while earlier.

“What you waiting for then Deano! Time to get clean! Just wait until you see what I have under that tree for you…you’re gonna LOVE it!”


	3. Chapter 3

Clean and dry and at last fully dressed, Dean bounced on the balls of his feet beside their tree. It wasn’t a huge one in any way, only a few feet tall and raised up on a small table to keep it out of the way of little paws, but it served it’s purpose well, standing guard over a small pile of gifts wrapped with varying levels of finesse.

Neither man was of a religious slant, nor were they overly driven by the need to buy, buy, buy that struck most of the population at holiday time, but the horror on Rod’s face when, facing their first Christmas as a couple together, they told him they weren’t going to bother with gifts for each other, or even with a tree at home was a sight to behold. They had quickly backtracked, reaching a compromise with the smallest tree they could find, with the ugliest ornaments they could buy for each other, except of course for the one beautiful, tasteful one Rod & Jim gifted them each year, and with exchanging presents.

“Sit down! Sit down! Ok, big one first or the little ones?

The act of hunting down of the perfect gift for each other had become their favourite part of the holiday. They both loved the challenge of finding just the right thing on a budget they agreed as soon as the first Halloween decorations appeared in stores. That covered their main gift and they allowed another twenty dollars for stocking stuffers. The thong and Santa hat had been one of Dean's for Punk, leaving three still under the tree, guarded by the candy pooping reindeer that was one of his little silly gifts from his lover.

“Small ones first please,”

Punk made grabby hands as Dean joined him on the couch with the pile of small presents, each of them taking it in turns to pick out a gift for the other to unwrap, Dean delighted with his new Grinch keychain, Punk equally thrilled with his bouquet of miniature candy dicks. He unwrapped one and popped it in his mouth while Dean disappeared into their bedroom to fetch his main gift.

He reemerged carrying a beautifully wrapped rectangular parcel. Punk cocked an eyebrow as he sat back down next to him and handed it over.

“I know, I didn’t wrap it. That’s Tyler’s handiwork.”

Punk carefully tore back the paper, revealing a framed picture of himself, Dean and their furbaby Larry outside Pipin’ Hot Joe, not a photograph, but a drawing rendered in comic book style.

“And that’s Tyler’s guy’s handiwork.”

“Thank you...it’s incredible. I love it, I really love it.”

He leaned across with a kiss for his partner.

“Now yours, though I don’t think it’s going to come anywhere close to this.”

Hopping to his feet he walked over to the bookshelf, slipping an envelope from between two books and offering it to Dean when he returned. He watched nervously as Dean opened it, a huge sense of relief washing over him as his boyfriend whooped with delight and flung himself at him in a hug once he read the papers inside.

“BIGFOOT HUNTING! AW YEAH!! I HAVE THE BEST BOYFRIEND EVER!”

“I guess you like it then? Trip won’t be til March…”

“Don’t care. My boyfriend is taking me Bigfoot hunting. Wait...that’s the spotting hunting and not the bang bang hunting, right?”

“What do you think, idiot?”

Dean snuggled into Punk’s chest and sighed contentedly.

“I think you’re fucking awesome, babe…”

The two enjoyed lying curled together on the couch watching festive nonsense on tv until it was time to head to Rod and Jim’s. They loaded up their car with all the food Punk had prepared in the days before and the gifts they had bought for the two older men and made the short trip to their house, finding themselves in a little difficulty when they made it to the front door, neither one able to press the doorbell.

“I can’t reach it.”

“Well my hands are full too, babe.”

“One of us will have to…”

“It’s ok! There’s my baby! Go on, baby boy! Get Grandpa! Good boy!”

“Dean, I don’t think he can hear you…”

“No, you’re probably right, but Jim or rod will hear _him_...isn’t that right boy?”

Dean waggled his head at the small excited figure bouncing in the window, who yipped and waggled his own fuzzy little head back at him.

“Alright! Alright! Settle down Larry. Look...I’m letting them in now...come on in...ROD! THE BOYS ARE HERE!”

Jim opened the door wide, expertly blocking Larry’s dash for freedom with a well placed shin. Relieving Dean of his load, he followed Punk towards the kitchen while the younger man squatted down to ruffle his dog’s scruffy fur.

“You been a good boy for your Grandpas? Of course you are...you’re the best baby…”

Jim and Punk found Rod in the kitchen busy basting the turkey he had prepared for the three meat eaters. Well technically four meat eaters since no one was about to deny Larry when he inevitably started making eyes around the table a little hater. Rod helped them unload their burdens onto the counter then greeted his protégé and surrogate son with a warm paternal hug and a noisy smacking kiss to the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Punk!”

“Same to you old man.”

“Where’s the other one?”

“Living room,” Jim piped up.

“Yeah, he couldn’t wait to see Larry.”

Jim’s contagious chuckle from the doorway caught their attention.

“You two should come see this,”

He beckoned them over and quietly pushed the door wide enough that they could all see the scene in the other room. 

Dean lay flat on his back on the floor, fussing over Larry who was laid on his chest, telling him what a wonderful boy he was and how much he had missed him.

“...did you miss me too, baby boy?”

Punk crossed over to where they lay and scooped Larry up for a cuddle of his own.

“It’s been _one night_ , Deano…”

Dean clambered to his feet and greeted his hosts properly, returning their hugs with warm squeezes of his own, excitedly sharing with them how impressed he was with Punk’s gift to him. He helped Jim finish setting the out the plates while Punk and Rod made all the final touches to the meal. They all took their usual places around the table Jim had made by hand, Larry curled up under their feet and got stuck into the spread, conversation flowing freely. 

Eventually, plates cleared and bellies stuffed, Jim reached over and took his partner’s hand in his, fumbling in his pocket with the other.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a little while, and I wanted our boys here to witness it. Now, I’m too old to get down on one knee, but I hope that won’t make any difference...Rod, my one true love...how do you feel about getting hitched?”

**Author's Note:**

> So I swore I'd never write Punkbrose, and then Christmas Cupid happened & these 2 charmers got right under my skin...and then politely demanded that I let them show off some more :)  
> Many thanks to lamentomori for her 'gentle encouragement' (and endless patience in the face of teasing.)
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://sortofgetit.tumblr.com/).


End file.
